


Honest Intentions

by Aeshna etonensis (GMWWemyss)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 2019 UK General Election, Anti-Semitism (referenced), Bonfire Night, Dialogue Heavy, Guy Fawkes Night, M/M, Politics, The Grauniad (referenced)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:54:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21707815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GMWWemyss/pseuds/Aeshna%20etonensis
Summary: The temporal conjunction of an interview, Bonfire Night, a tweet, a vicious review, and the General Election resulted in … this.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson (referenced), Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Kudos: 3





	Honest Intentions

**Author's Note:**

> Popping by in haste to post this for anyone who likes. After the hols, I may, actually, have a breather. If I’ve any outstanding messages or compliments, I shall respond; I apologise if I’ve not done. I’m grateful for them, I’m simply buried in work.
> 
> I apologise in advance to Overseas Readers who mayn’t have the foggiest idea of what is going on in this little post.

* * *

‘Gentlemen, I give you: the memory of Guy Fawkes … the last man to enter Parliament with honest intentions!’

– Traditional toast

* * *

‘Hey, babe. Or … do I call you, “Winston”, now?’

Liam groaned. Zayn’s voice was all too damnably clear, however far apart they were in body; and the amusement in his tone was poorly enough concealed that it should have come across in any case.

‘’S all right, _jaan_ ,’ laughed Zayn. ‘We always knew you were our very own Gary Barlow.’

‘Makes you Robbie, then?’

‘Fook that, ’m not going fifteen years before I’m on stage again with you lot. And I’m not gettin’ a Two Ronnies tat.’

‘Eric and Ern, then?’

‘Piss off, _jaan_. Go “be more Churchill” with someone who cares.’

‘Aw, but Zaynie, I thought _you_ cared.’

There was a beat; and the reply was utterly serious. ‘You know I do, babe. Even if you stand as a Tory in the next bye-election or sommat.’

‘I didn’t never _said_ I were a Conservative –’

‘Doesn’t matter. You didn’t endorse Corbyn, so.... You can wave farewell to a good – fook, a _fair_ –review in the _Guardian,_ y’ know, when _LP1_ drops.’

Liam closed his eyes in a wince. He knew that. He’d hoped no one else had caught on. There was a reason he hated interviews which strayed beyond the music: damned if you did, damned if you evaded.

‘So,’ said Zayn, with a sly and perfectly audible grin back in his voice: ‘how’s your Best Friend Forever, writing partner, prop-stay-an’-support takin’ it?’

‘Like all you Yorkshire Tykes,’ shot back Liam. ‘They _weigh_ the Labour vote up there.’

‘Mmm. I wouldn’t be so certain, this time. Bradford East and Bradford South went Leave by a bigger margin than Tory Fookin’ Shipley did; and the Donny constituencies were, like, two-thirds to three-quarters Leave. Higher than the Wolvo constituencies, even.’

‘Zed?’ Liam had not expected this sudden access of knowledge.

‘Yeah, I’m just goin’ to tweet for everyone to register. No endorsements.’

Liam breathed heavily, and was otherwise silent.

After a moment, he spoke. ‘Well, y’ know Tommo. He’s in a tiswas about the NHS, anyroadup, and we all know why, and understand; and they weigh the Labour vote in London, too.’

‘Mmm. And – Styles?’

‘Dunno. We haven’t proper spoke about it. He might go Green, knowing him, or Lib Dem.’

‘An’ Nialler’ll vote for a Remain party if he votes in a UK GE at all.’

‘Or write-in someone from Fianna Fáil.’ The joke fell flat: Liam knew he couldn’t make his tone light enough.

‘We can’t any of us stick it, can we?’

‘Um.’

‘There are some shit Tories, man, but … Sajid. And three other Subcontinental Brits in Cabinet.* That’s not nothing, not when Jezza’s got the Shad Cab he has. And it’s not _institutional_ racism, the shit Tories and the swivel-eyed aren’t.’

‘Ah.’

‘I wager that’s what’s sticking in Styles’ throat, and Tommo’s. Never mind the NHS or Brexit.’

‘And yours?’

‘Babe.... I’m not joining any party’s Friends of Israel Group anytime soon. But. The Jews’ve supported Labour for a century. There’s nobbut one explanation why Labour – as a party – has suddenly turned on ’em, an’ it’s not that it makes _political_ sense. I’m like your Chancellor: I can’t fully observe, and I’m married to a _gora_ – lad, not lass, but y’ get the idea. An’ … if Corbyn and his lot can do this to the Jews … _we’re_ next. Or we could be. I’m not havin’ with that.’

Liam hesitated. ‘You’re not going to – well – I mean, yeah, just for not puttin’ a red rosette on me jacket in an interview, I _am_ goin’ t’ be fucked hard up the bum by the _Guardian_ and all –’

‘Toppy bastard,’ said Zayn, affectionately. ‘Your worst nightmare.’

Liam wisely ignored this: ‘– you’ve got music lined up, too, and you’re, y’ know, a bigger target –’

‘Happen. But we can play the Yank market card, babe: for once, we can’t be forced to be anything but neutral, like.’ There was a brief pause. ‘I hope.

‘Any road, me mind’s made up. ’M not takin’ sides – _Winnie_.’

‘I’m not –’

‘If y’ could get CCHQ to support legalising _bhang,_ Tommo an’ I’d even vote for you.’

‘Yeah, do one, you –’

‘An’ I’d make a brill constituency wife....’

‘I. Am. Not. Standing.’

‘But, _jaan,_ you’d be the first MP since Guy Fawkes to enter Parliament with honest intentions.’

‘No, that’d be Frank Field, and if he were Leader I might vote Labour. And if I stated me honest intentions –’

‘’S all right: the Tories used to be party of closet gays and proud Etonians, now it’s other way ’round.’

‘– I’d ever been honest when your Dad “asked me intentions” –’

‘Yeah, no, he didn’t need to hear, aye, that, in addition to lovin’ and cherishin’ me, you intended on shaggin’ me into whimpering delirium in every city as had a music venue, and that I’d never sit comfortably again.’

‘Y’ make us sound like Larry Stylinson.’

‘Yeah, _no._ Fookin’ Styles.’

‘Devine rung him up and pissed on him from a great height for that.’

‘ _Did_ he?’ Zayn was evidently chuffed. ‘Didn’t expect Josh t’ defend me honour.’

‘Um. Well.’

Zayn twigged at once, and chortled wryly. ‘Drummer solidarity, was it, then? An’ how Ringo were t’ best Beatle.

‘Well, we’ll have to play Winston-and-Clemmie, then, instead of a Beatles scene.’

Liam sighed. He knew already that Zayn should tease him about this for years to come.

‘I’ll have your cigars, and whisky, and the “Battle of Britain Suite” and “Dambusters March” on me sound system....’

‘Or,’ growled Liam, ‘you can keep on talkin’ shite and, next time I see you, I’ll shove a clementine up your arse.’

‘Mmm. Hot. I’ve seen that in a porno. Babe, y’ can roger me with a prize marrow, I don’t care, I just want to _see_ you, soon as. After the Election, I s’pose.’

‘Mebbe not. I voted by post.’

‘A blue drop in the red London sea.’

‘Love, I’m still on the rolls in Wolvo, like as if I were away at uni. Let me look at me schedule, and flights, and all. But only if you give over this Churchill bit.’

‘ _Jaan_ –’

‘Or we could do _Labour_ role-play: you’d be the rent boy, I’d be Keith Vaz pretending to be a white-goods salesman.’

Liam could almost hear Zayn shudder. Keith Vaz was a definite mood-killer.

But Zayn rallied. ‘I’ve seen your White goods, and had a demonstration: I’m sold already.’

‘But what about the extended warranty?’ Liam grinned, triumphing: he’d heard Zayn’s suppressed whimper. ‘Emailing you the details now. I’ll call between twelve and five.’

‘I’ll be in all day.’

‘No: _I_ will. And all night, too.’

‘Oh, fook me,’ muttered Zayn.

Liam smiled as he prepared to ring off and begin packing. ‘I shall. On the beaches, on the landing grounds, in the fields and in the streets, in the hills....’

He rang off without a further word.

As he packed, whistling, he carefully ignored the desperate ringing of his ’phone. He’d given Zayn his honest intentions; and _he_ didn’t renege on manifesto pledges.

* * *

* Zayn was mistaken. The Rt Hon. Rishi Sunak MP, Richmond (Yorks), as Chief Secretary to the Treasury, attends Cabinet, but is not a Cabinet minister.

* * *

THE END ... or at least the end of the beginning, as Winston said of Alamein

* * *


End file.
